


Things We Lost in the Fire

by WhatTheSchmuck



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anthology, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Lara Croft - Freeform, Loss, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, S.S. Endurance - Freeform, SaLara - Freeform, Sam x Lara, Samantha Nishimura - Freeform, StandAlones, Substance Abuse, Tomb Raider, collection, one shots, post-Yamatai, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheSchmuck/pseuds/WhatTheSchmuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you understand that we will never be the same again?" Inspired by the song of the same name by Bastille, this is an anthology of stories about the experiences of Lara Croft and Samantha Nishimura after Yamatai. Each story is semi-related, meeting the criteria of things lost in the fire of what happened on the island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Things We Lost in the Fire - Lara/Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara and Sam are reflecting on the things that have changed since Yamatai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For extra effect feel free to listen to Things We Lost in the Fire by Bastille.
> 
> This is intended to develop into a collection of stories set after the events of Tomb Raider 2013. Every once in a while when I'm not writing other fics as part of a solo project or Croft Manor collab I may post something new so keep your eyes out for new content!
> 
> All comments and kudos appreciated!

There's your camera sitting unattended and neglected on the kitchen table. You used to always conduct most of your conversations with me from behind that lens...but now you don't. You barely even speak to me these days. Beside your camera lies your laptop where you used to eagerly piece together and edit all of your recordings. Like your camera, that too sits there, abandoned as it gathers dust.

Sitting among the now-forgotten technology is you. Like your laptop and camera, you used to be so active and full of energy. You used to fill the room with the warmth of your smile and the lightheartedness of your laugh. Except now you don't laugh, you don't smile, you don't crack jokes or tease me. You don't have the energy to do any of those things anymore. Once upon a time, anytime we watched TV together you used to criticize the filmwork of the shows and completely dissect every aspect of them. Now, we don't even watch TV together. Now you sit there like a vegetable as you stare at the screen blankly, not even taking in what you are watching as you sip that poison in your hand.

While you used to drink to have a good time and unwind, you now use it to run away from all of your problems much like how you always accuse me of supposedly running away. The alcohol that now touches your lips slowly addles your brain and further distorts the vibrant and bubbly person who used to be my roommate...my best friend...my love...into something more dark and twisted. With every sip, you slip further and further away from me until you're locked away in your own little world away from the horrors of reality. I don't even recognize you anymore.

The worst part is that I still love you with every fiber of my being. More than anything, I wish I could hate the person you've become so it wouldn't hurt so much to see you this way but I can't. I can't because part of me knows you're still there and more than anything, I wish I would bring you back, hold you, protect you from the voices in your head… But you won't let me no matter how hard I try. Now all I can do is watch with great sadness as the person I love and care about is consumed by the flames resulting from the aftermath of that damned island.

My friend, my heart, my smile, my laugh, the most important person in the world to me…

These are the things that I lost in the fire.

* * *

You used to read your books with an almost manic fervor but now all of your various tomes and novels lie in a pile in the corner of your room, completely untouched by you. You used to be so kind, gentle, and friendly to others. Now when anybody approaches you, you turn on them with your teeth bared like a caged animal just waiting to be unleashed upon the world that did you so much wrong. Anytime I reach out to touch you, you recoil and shy away as though you had forgotten that hands are capable of things other than violence and abuse-almost as though you had forgotten what kindness looked and felt like. The worst part is that I don't even know how to show you otherwise. I'm too terrified to try only for you to hurt me again and blame yourself afterwards, as if you know any better after surviving the horrors you did.

Your long, brown hair used to be so well kempt and clean. Now it sprouts from your head in a disheveled mess. Your skin used to be so smooth, flawless, and radiant...now twisted, mottled scars stretch across every bit of your exposed flesh, each one telling the story of the innumerable horrors you survived on that island: horrors that you had to endure to save me. Your face used to be so relaxed and good natured; now there's no more signs of that. These days it seems as though your features are drawn into a permanent scowl as you regard the entire world with a cold bitterness.

You used to examine the maps and charts pinned up on your wall until you would dream about them in your sleep...but now? Now those very maps and charts are torn and crumpled in the bottom of your waste basket, shredded apart like all of your dreams and aspirations. You always used to have such a fire burning within you, driving you to want and pursue something more. Now that very fire has begun to burn out of control and slowly consume you as I'm left staring at the ashes. I want to help you but I can't. That's the worst part.

You think you're a monster because of everything that happened but you don't realize that the true monster is sitting at the table of the kitchen you just entered. You became the way you are because of me, because of the mistakes I made. Maybe if I wasn't so naive and trusting, maybe just maybe I'd still have my roommate...my best friend...my love...maybe just maybe you'd still be with me.

My friend, my heart, my smile, my laugh, the most important person in the world to me…

These are the things that I lost in the fire.

* * *

These are the things we lost in the fire and we're not sure if we'll ever be able to salvage them from the ashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links to my personal accounts:
> 
> DA: http://lexbabe88.deviantart.com/  
> FF.NET: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6918709/  
> Tumblr: http://lexcroftmanor.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/LexCroftManor


	2. Call Me When You're Sober: Part 1 - Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of a multi-part short story. Set in an AU where Lara develops a bit of an alcohol problem after Yamatai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Evanescence song of the same name. Special thanks to ReasonsLost for editing this for me!
> 
> Some of you may be wondering why there aren't three chapters right now. While it's true that I originally uploaded Had Enough in here, I felt that it simply didn't fit in with the tone I wanted to give this anthology. You can find Had Enough re-uploaded as a standalone instead.
> 
> All comments and kudos appreciated!

It all started out innocently enough; it was almost like a ritual. Lara and I would get together to have a drink. I took to mixing Lara with vodka. For some reason the warmth of alcohol settling in my stomach combined easily with the way she warmed my heart. They made the bitter feelings seem distant. It allowed us to stave off the tears and, in an almost ironic sense, dulling the pain helped to sharpen our minds and our focus. After that one drink we’d be able to go about life normally, as if nothing ever happened. 

Eventually, getting together for the occasional drink turned into getting together every night, and one drink became several. We never meant for it to get to that point, it just took more to take the edge off. 

The nightly ritual became an after work ritual for me. It was easy for me to get a job in a department store, the camera floor specifically. I’ve always been good with people, and better with cameras. Nine to five, and they started me a pound above minimum, plus commission. It wasn’t as easy for Lara; archaeology isn’t a universally applicable skill. But honestly, I wasn’t sure if Lara was even trying. Day after day continued to pass and she showed almost no sense of urgency in finding gainful employment. It wasn’t until a month after I’d found my own job that I decided to broach the topic. 

I saw her sitting on the couch, beer in hand while watching TV. I walked up and gently wrapped my arms around her from behind.

“Hey, babe?” I asked quietly, looking down at her puzzled expression, “Have you thought about how you’re going to pay your part of the bills? Maybe looked at any jobs?” She frowned for a moment, and set her beer down. I remember wondering if she had expected to live off of me, or my trust fund, and feeling guilty for even thinking it.

“Right,” she said. “Bills.” She sounded like she’d just remembered some distant, unimportant idea, and lifted her beer for another sip. “I’ll sort that out.” I believed her. 

“By next week?” I asked, sliding my hands up and rubbing her shoulders slowly.

“By tomorrow, even.” My face must have betrayed my confusion, and when I opened my mouth to speak Lara slid a hand behind my neck and pulled me into a kiss. I could taste the alcohol on her breath. “Don’t worry about it,” she let me go, but I didn’t move. I knew from experience that just one beer wouldn’t make anybody’s breath that heavy.

“Sweetie...how long have you been drinking?” She didn’t answer right away. Instead she looked down at her drink. 

“An hour, maybe?” she said dismissively. 

“...And how long have you been awake?” I asked slowly. Lara paused for a moment to think.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “...why does that matter anyhow?” I stepped over the back of the couch and took a seat beside her.

“Lara...it’s only one in the afternoon.”

“And? It’s not like I have any obligations today.” When I still looked uncertain she set her drink down with a sigh, “Come here…” I leaned in closer to her and she wrapped her arms around me. I closed my eyes and rested my head along the crook of her neck, allowing myself to be comforted by her warmth. “I’ll take care of everything by tomorrow, alright? Don’t worry about it.” I nodded lazily into her.

“Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links to my personal accounts:
> 
> DA: http://lexbabe88.deviantart.com/  
> FF.NET: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6918709/  
> Tumblr: http://lexcroftmanor.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/LexCroftManor


	3. Call Me When You're Sober: Part 2 - Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of a multi-part short story. Set in an AU where Lara develops a bit of an alcohol problem after Yamatai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Evanescence song of the same name. Special thanks to ReasonsLost for editing this for me!
> 
> All comments and kudos appreciated!

At first I had my doubts that Lara was going to take care of her finances like she said she would; she never seemed to leave the apartment. But sure enough, the time to pay our bills came, and Lara was able to pay for her portion. Even though I was relieved to have her financial burden taken off my shoulders, I couldn’t help but begin to feel concerned. Where exactly was Lara getting the money to pay for her bills? I reasoned that it must have been one of those online jobs, but then I never saw her at her laptop so that option was out. So maybe she was starting work after me and coming home earlier? That didn’t make sense either. There was no way Lara could have been making enough money with those types of hours. At least, not with a  _ legal _ job.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to find out where all the money was coming from. I planned the entire conversation out almost obsessively that day while I was at work. The prospect of confronting Lara distracted me so much that I ended up recommending a camera built for extreme cold to a customer instead of something for higher temperatures. I was mortified when I realized my mistake, but not as mortified as I was at the thought that Lara might be into something bad like drug dealing. I wanted to believe she wouldn’t do something like that but with how off she had been, I just didn’t know.

My shift finally ended, and I drove home as quickly as I could without getting in legal trouble. The thought of Lara doing something really illicit just had me really on edge; I’d much rather her live off of my trust fund instead. I ended up making it to our apartment building with my nerves still intact, and I parked my car before walking up to our apartment and letting myself in. Lara was in the kitchen when I walked in, and I set my purse and keys down on the table before approaching her. She looked up at the sound of my footsteps.

“You’re home,” she remarked, pulling out a handle of whiskey and a glass, “should I fix you a drink?” she poured herself a generous measure of alcohol and brought the glass to her lips.

“No.” I grabbed the cup out of her hand and set it down on the counter beside us, “We need to talk about something serious.” Fear flickered across Lara’s face before she assumed a neutral expression. My stomach sank; she knew what I was going to ask her about. She had to, otherwise she wouldn’t have been so afraid. She was guilty, caught in the act. She hooked a thumb through one of her belt loops and regarded me with a guarded gaze before speaking.

“Okay, about what? I’m listening.” I took a slow, deep breath before speaking.

“Lara...where are you getting the money to pay your bills?” Lara’s entire body froze for a moment, and she stared at me like a deer caught in headlights before looking away. More suspicious body language. I wished that she’d at least tried to act innocent. I wanted to believe that she wasn’t involved in anything illicit more than anything, but she was denying me that luxury. I felt my throat tighten.

“What does it matter? I took care of my part didn’t I?” She asked, shifting her feet in apparent discomfort. She really wasn’t going to make things easy for either of us, that much I was able to tell. I opened my mouth to tell her to stop avoiding the question, but stopped when I noticed how much Lara’s breath  _ reeked _ of alcohol. I looked between her, the glass, and the half-full handle of whiskey. My jaw hung slightly loose.

“Are you drunk right now?”

“No, no I just...I needed something to take the edge off. Do we really have to do this right now? You just got home. Why don’t you just relax and-?” She spoke rapidly as she put her hand on top of the glass. I threw my trembling hand on top of hers to stop her from picking it up.

“Yes, we do.” I swallowed thickly to steady myself before continuing, “Lara, if you’re dealing drugs or-” Lara’s eyes widened, and she swelled up indignantly, drawing herself to full height. She wasn’t a tall woman--only an inch taller than me, if that--but the way she was carrying herself made me feel dwarfed in comparison. I shrank beneath her gaze.

“What?  _ God, no _ ! I’d never do anything like that!” Lara scowled at me, “What, so just because of what I did on Yamatai I’m suddenly this terrible person with no moral fiber?!” She yanked the glass, along with her hand, out from under my own. I gaped at her; I must have looked like a fish with the way I opened and closed my mouth to find the words to say.

“Wait- what? N-no I don’t think that of you, how could you think that?” I watched wide-eyed as Lara quickly downed her drink and began pouring herself another one with a grimace.

“I saw the way you looked at me on Yamatai when I was doing...what I did, and I see the way you’re looking at me  _ now _ . Like...like I’m some type of  _ animal _ …” she downed another shot of the alcohol and screwed her eyes shut before setting the glass down with a loud thud. “Fine, you want to know how I’m getting the money? And before you ask again, no I’m not selling drugs o-or killing people or something horrible like that. I accepted my inheritance.” She picked the bottle up by the neck and took a long draught. All I could do was stand there and stare at her in shock. It wasn’t like Lara to just take the easy way out; the fact that she worked two jobs in Uni proved that. 

When she lowered the bottle her eyes were watering, and I wasn’t sure whether it was from the drink. I reached out to touch her, but she recoiled from my hand, almost as if my touch was something that would burn her. That hurt. I took a step forward to try again, but she quickly side stepped me and stormed off to our room. It wasn’t until she slammed the door and locked it with a click that I realized she had taken the bottle with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links to my personal accounts:
> 
> DA: http://lexbabe88.deviantart.com/  
> FF.NET: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6918709/  
> Tumblr: http://lexcroftmanor.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/LexCroftManor


	4. Call Me When You're Sober: Part 3 - Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of a multi-part short story. Set in an AU where Lara develops a bit of an alcohol problem after Yamatai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Evanescence song of the same name. Special thanks to ReasonsLost for editing this for me!
> 
> All comments and kudos appreciated!

I slept on the couch that night. It was strange sleeping alone for the first time since Lara and I started dating, but the door to our room had remained locked so there was no way I could’ve entered. As I lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling, I wished that I could have been relieved that Lara wasn’t involved with anything illegal, but that just wasn’t the case. I was worried about her. I knew she was having trouble adjusting after _that place_ but I never really knew just how much trouble. For her to push me away the way she did? That in itself was concerning. But to lock herself in our room with nothing but a bottle of whiskey? The more I thought about it, the more difficult it was for me to find sleep. What if she was missing when I woke up? What if she ended up drinking too much and needing my help while I was asleep? I couldn’t stand it.

Despite the thoughts running through my head, I did end up nodding off for an hour or two at some point early in the morning. I don’t remember dreaming, only waking up to what I thought was Lara screaming for my help. The apartment was completely quiet though, and I realized that it had just been my imagination. I had been so consumed by my thoughts before sleeping that my brain had made them a sort of distorted reality.

Rubbing my eyes, I reached for my phone on the coffee table to check the time. It was six forty-three in the morning; I had work in two hours and there was no way I was going to function in the state I was in. I was exhausted and stressed; I couldn’t stop worrying about Lara now that I was awake again. There was no way I could justify leaving her alone after what happened the night before. I had to be sure she was okay. I bit my lip and hesitated before unlocking my phone and texting one of my co-workers, Breanne.

 _Can you cover my shift today? Personal emergency that I can’t ignore._ I hit the send button and waited for her to respond. I knew she’d be awake because she always talked about how she’d made a habit of waking up early to go for a run every morning. One minute later, my text tone went off and I unlocked my phone to read Breanne’s reply.

 _Don’t worry I got you. Hope everything is okay._ I sighed in relief and replied with a quick thank-you before locking my phone. With that at least taken care of, I flopped back onto the couch and draped an arm over my eyes. I wasn’t going to sleep, I couldn’t, but I knew that Lara wasn’t going to let me into the bedroom. All I could do was wait for her to come out--if she was even going to.

* * *

I was stuck in a limbo between sleep and consciousness when I finally heard it: coughing, retching, and the sounds of something splattering into the commode of the toilet. Lara was awake. I uncovered my eyes and swung my legs over the side of the couch to get up and help her.

The sight that I was met with in the bathroom was pathetic, at best. Lara was sitting on the ground in front of the toilet with one arm draped across the seat and her head in the bowl. Her entire body convulsed whenever she’d retch, and every convulsion was accompanied by more disgorging. I lingered hesitantly in the doorway before going to her and holding her hair back while her body continued to purge itself of the toxins she had ingested. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that it finally stopped and she was reduced to nothing but pained groans. I knelt down wordlessly and started rubbing her back in what I hoped was a comforting manner. Her body jerked beneath my touch, and for a moment I thought she wasn’t done emptying the contents of her stomach until it happened again with a concurrent sob that was amplified by the toilet. My heart ached for her; she was hurting and I wanted to take the pain away.

“Hey, come on…” I hushed her quietly and lifted her head from the toilet so that she’d look at me. When she did, she looked like a complete wreck. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the rest of her face was pale and sweaty. She also look exhausted--as though she hadn’t slept which, I told myself, she probably hadn’t. Her bottom lip quivered, and she clenched her jaw in an attempt to stop it. When that didn’t work, she turned her head to the wall and averted her gaze from me.

“I can’t do this, I’m a fucking monster, Sam…” her angry tone caught me off guard, and it was a moment before I responded.

“You...what? No you’re not!”

“You said it yourself…” Lara’s tone was suddenly sad, and tears started welling up in her eyes. She balled her hands up into fists and wiped them away forcefully, “Or...you didn’t but I see the look you’re giving me, Sam.” I didn’t even know what she meant by that. What was she talking about?

“The look I’m giving you?” I asked in confusion, “Lara, I’m looking at you this way because I’m worried about you. You won’t talk to me and you locked yourself in our bedroom with a bottle of whiskey last night. How can I not be?”

“You thought I was _dealing drugs_!” She spat bitterly. I opened my mouth to say something but she beat me to it, “Everybody seems to think that I’m a monster after Yamatai, even you...tell me, when did you stop loving me? During, or after the island?” That hurt.

“How could you think I don’t love you?” Every word I spoke was being forced by the lump that had formed in my throat, “I’ve never stopped loving you. I was just concerned because you’ve been acting so different ever since we got back and the person I love would have never just accepted her inheritance instead of going out and-”

“There! You just said it! I’m different than the person you love!” Her head snapped sideways to look at me again, sending the tears that had clung to her cheeks flying to the floor.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I already told you that I still love you, I’m just worried that-”

“That’s exactly what you said and now you’re just saying that because you pity me!” her breath reached my nose and I smelled it again: alcohol. She was still drunk. “Fuck…” she murmured, leaning herself against the side of the tub and holding her head in her hands. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” I sat up against the tub beside her and put a hand on her shoulder, “Please listen to me. I’m just worried that you’re letting things get out of hand and you’re not even make an effort to take control of your life. You worked _two jobs_ in college! You could have used your inheritance to pay your way through it but you didn’t. What changed between then and now? Please just talk to me. What’s going on with you?” she didn’t move or acknowledge what I said, “Lara, please!”

“Will getting a job make you love me again?” she asked suddenly, turning her head in her hands to look at me. She looked so depressed and desperate it took all I had to not break down and cry. I couldn’t do that, I had to be strong for both of us, otherwise nobody would be.

“I’ve told you several times already. I still love you, why won’t you believe me?”

“That’s what they all say.” She stood up and made for the doorway, “I’ll work on getting a job tomorrow.”

“Lara…” I wanted to chase after her and stop her, but before I could it was too late. I heard the bedroom door snap shut and lock with a click once more. She was shutting me out again and there was no way I could get her to let me in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links to my personal accounts:
> 
> DA: http://lexbabe88.deviantart.com/  
> FF.NET: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6918709/  
> Tumblr: http://lexcroftmanor.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/LexCroftManor


	5. Never Be The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara visits Sam after Yamatai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song muse: Never Be The Same by Red
> 
> All comments and kudos appreciated!

It was twelve thirty in the afternoon on a Monday--the same time as usual. As expected, Sam was sitting there and waiting for me in her usual place, regarding me with the same expression, in the same outfit. I drew up a chair and took a seat across from her, putting on my most cheerful smile while she only stared back at me with a rock-hard expression. Even though her lack of emotion left me feeling disheartened, I started speaking.

“Hey Sam,” I began, “It’s been a while since I last visited… How’ve you been?” She continued to stare at me in stone cold silence. I licked my lips and swallowed thickly past the lump that had formed in my throat while thinking of how to continue. I had expected silence the moment I had taken my seat, but that didn’t make it any easier. It still stung just the same every time.

“Alright, I’ll start then… I’ve been okay, I guess.” I cleared my throat. “Honestly, I’m just constantly wishing you were home with me is all. What about you? Do you want to come home? I’m sure you’re uncomfortable in there. I know I’d be.” I don’t know why, but I laughed to myself while she remained unmoved. Maybe it was because I wanted to lighten the mood, as if that was going to work. I bit my lip before letting out a sigh of resignation.

“You’re never going to answer me, are you?” Sam’s response, or lack thereof, was the only answer I needed. I laced my fingers together and let my gaze drift downward. I deserved her silence. It was my fault that she’d ended up in her current condition in the first place. “I wish you would…” I muttered. It had been so long since we had a real conversation, and I missed talking to her more and more with each passing day. I missed our nonsensical back and forths, the way she’d affectionately call me a dork, the discussions we had about our future plans, dreams, aspirations… I missed my Sam.

“I still think about that day, you know. Nothing’s been the same since…” my hands suddenly went cold, and I found myself unable to finish the thought. I slid them into my pockets to warm them up, and my right hand tightened around the velvet box I was carrying. “...Every night I’m forced to relive it all over again. God, I still feel terrible, more than you’ll ever know. If I had just been faster, neither of us would be in this situation. No matter how hard I try, I can never forgive myself for doing this to you.”

Dark clouds rumbled overhead as the first drops of rain began to fall. Something else came with the storm--a lingering sadness. “And I guess you haven’t forgiven me either,” I remarked, watching the rain fall and feeling my face wetten at the same time. I knew it would be futile to try and wipe the moisture away. “I’m so sorry…” I said in a voice barely above a whisper. My bottom lip trembled and my voice broke. I couldn’t do it. What good were my apologies? Everything was my fault. But for some reason, I still forced myself to continue.

“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Before everything, I meant to ask you…” my voice caught and I tried again, “I’ve always loved you, you know. I never stopped and...before that day I was…” I was struggling to speak past the tightness in my throat, “I was going to ask you if…” I sobbed and pulled the velvet box out of my pocket, “I-if you’d let me continue loving you for the rest of my life.” I opened the box and showed her the ring sitting neatly within the slot. I couldn’t control the involuntary quaking of my chest, “Fuck. I’m so sorry…” I buried my face in my hand and tried to regain my composure. When that failed I started speaking again in unsteady tones, “If you’re still in there and feel anything just please answer me...please!”

But she didn’t answer. Instead, the thunder rumbled with increasing intensity, the wind howled, and the rain came down in buckets. I watched it sadly, knowing what it meant.

“I guess my time is up, then…” I sighed, kneeling down in front of the tombstone and setting the still open box down. I put a hand on top of the carved rock and pressed my forehead up against it with increasing pressure. “It should have been me, this was all my fault... You never deserved this. You never deserved any of it. I wish that we could see each other again some day but I know that wherever you are, I’m going to the direct opposite of it.” I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that I could feel Sam’s warmth just one more time but only feeling the cold, rain slicked stone instead.

It should have been me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links to my personal accounts:
> 
> DA: http://lexbabe88.deviantart.com/  
> FF.NET: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6918709/  
> Tumblr: http://lexcroftmanor.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/LexCroftManor


End file.
